Mia
by xKrysx
Summary: Harry thinks of his wife while reading his daughter a storybook. Implied HHr.


**Mia.**

You look at the mountain load of documents piled high on your desk and sigh; it will take quite a while to look through. You think that being the Head Auror isn't all that it is cracked up to be. Sure, you have the cash and the power, as well as a good status in society, but it is ripping you off from your precious time with your family. You hear a squeaking sound, and as you turn to stare at the source of the noise, you see her.

Petite and graceful, she is leaning against the doorway, trying to fight off the ministrations of your elderly housekeeper. You watch them somewhat enthusiastically, and unconsciously, a smile breaks out on your face.

"Helen," you finally speak, and you gesture to the white-haired regal-looking lady to let her do as she pleases. Helen huffs and bows stiffly before retreating from the large study area, and your little girl, unsure of herself asks softly, "Daddy?"

"Mia, come here," you tell her, and she bites her bottom lip, coming towards you, thinking she would receive a scolding. And you can't help but think that in times like this, she looks absurdly like her mother, from the bushy brown hair and warm mocha coloured eyes to that pout on her lips. You also think that your daughter looks so pretty- even if she is dressed in a fluffy pink nightgown and white bunny slippers whilst she holds onto her stuffed polar bear and your heart wrenches a little at the thought of you missing much of her life now, because you're constantly so busy.

"How's daddy's little girl?" you ask her, and her eyes light up as she snuggles on your lap, holding her scruffy polar bear to her.

"I'm fine. Really, daddy, I'm five already," she huffs at you, the same answer as always before she pecks you on your cheek.

"I love you, daddy," she whispers softly against your chest, and it sounds somewhat muffled, but you hear it all the same. Looking down at this little girl in your arms, you feel invincible, because to her, you are Superman, and anything you say goes. It sort of reminds you of the first time you laid your eyes on her. _So perfect_, your mind thinks.

"What do you want now?" Your eyes narrow slightly at your little girl, but her eyes widen in mock surprise and overwhelming innocence.

"I want daddy to read me a stowee." For a moment, you halt, and realizing she means 'story', you decide to play her game, and shake your head amusedly.

"Please?" she begs, as her bottom lip juts out. Again, you shake your head.

"Pretty please?" When that doesn't work, she adds, "With a cherry on top?" because she knows you can't resist cherries.

"Which book?" you give in, although you have planned to do this since she had asked. You could never refuse her after all. She smiles and gets off your lap, returning a few minutes later with a pink book.

"Princess Diaries," you read, and as you read along, you realize that it is about a girl named Mia, who is actually a princess.

_Mia… __**Mine**__._

*

_Six years ago…_

You toss on that hard lumpy sofa that you lie on, wondering in a daze how the hell you got onto the couch. It is freaking uncomfortable and as you punch the lumpy part, you swear you feel something alive underneath it.

How did the great Harry Potter, saviour of the world get into this predicament, you wonder, and the answer is- an extremely hormonal wife. You recall what occurred earlier.

_"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" _

_The tip of your pencil breaks as you cringe at her shrill tone and know that today is going to be an awful day, with her already this angry. She stomps into the study, and you try hard to ignore the waddling that she complains so much about. _

_Your wife looks beautiful as always, even more so she's carrying your child. Even when she's this angry, she looks divine, what with her brunette waves cascading down her back and that coffee-coloured eyes filled with this love of life. Yesterday, you've just found out yesterday after the ultrasound that you'll be ushering a little girl into this world, and although she's being all hormonal and 'angsty' like most expecting women, she looks absolutely beautiful to you. _

_"Calm down, Hermione. It's not doing the baby any good." She looks at you as if you're a three-headed monster, and you half-expect her to burst into tears. However, she defies all your expectations when she takes deep breaths, and you inch towards her, pressing a kiss to her distended belly, and another on her cheek. _

_"We need a name for her," she murmurs as you pull her flush against you and bend slightly to kiss her pouty lips. You taste cinnamon, and know that its her latest craving lately, you remind yourself to stock up on those cinnamon flavoured treats to prevent her from asking you to make a trip to the mart when it is 3am. _

_"Names?" Your brow furrows slightly. _

_"Isn't it a bit too early?" you ask, but her rising anger stops you mid-sentence, and you muster a slight smile. You think that although she's utterly hormonal, you can't help but love her so much now. _

"_Let's do it then."_

_She picks out a couple of books that she's been studying, and hands it to you. Leading your wife down to the futon, you find a scrap bit of paper and scrawl a couple of names down._

_Alexis_

_Jade_

_Rose_

_Lily_

_Elizabeth_

_Angelica_

"_Eureka!" Your wife squeals, and if she wasn't so pregnant, you are sure she would have leapt into the air in glee. She turns to you with a bright smile and plants a kiss right smack on your lips._

"_I got it!"_

"_Got what?" you ask. _

"_Mia," she replied simply. "I'm naming our daughter 'Mia'."_

"_Mia, as in short for Amelia?"_

"_No, Harry, 'Mia' as in 'Mia'. Latin for 'mine'." You frown slightly._

"_Hermione, she's 'ours', you know." She glares at you, and you feel taken aback for a moment._

"_I'm not dense, Harry, but I like the name oh-so-much! And, I have been carrying her for so long already. Mine," she retorted childishly, and you see Hermione telling you the same thing when she was twelve, and she wanted Hogwarts: A History, the second edition, and the both of you were the very best of friends._

"_The way I recall it, it took the both of us to make her."_

"_Make? She's not a thing, Harry!" _

"_I didn't mean it that way, Hermione," you tell her calmly. She sends another of her potent glares at you._

"_You're not sleeping in the room tonight, Harry," she tells you as she waddles out of the study. Damn those pregnancy hormones._

*

You stop reading at the end of Chapter Two of the novel when you hear the deep, even breaths taken by your princess. Picking up the old polar bear which had fallen onto the floor whilst you told the story, you are reminded of your wife. You see, the polar bear used to be hers.

You close your eyes, and will yourself not to cry as you gaze onto your daughter's sleeping face, and once again you think that she is so much like her mother. You then pick your little girl up, bridal style, as you head towards her room.

Her room is just beside the study, and as you lower her onto her four-poster bed surrounded by millions of stuffed toys and cushions, she murmurs "Daddy" once, before she snuggles into the warmth of her blanket.

Sometimes, when you are unable to sleep, you like to come here and watch your little angel sleep. She is so innocent, so pure, so untainted by the world that you cocoon her with the hopes that she'll never be. The pink book, still in your hand, craves your attention, and you place the book on her side table.

"Mia…" you whisper, and as an afterthought, you add, "Hermione…"

*

"_You… you bastard!" she yells as a particularly fierce contraction hits her, and the nurse turns to you sympathetically. "It's like that always, sonny," the nurse tells you, and you manage a weak smile._

"_Oww, Hermione, you're killing my hand!" You wince when she squeezes your left hand to ride out her pain. She had wanted to give birth naturally, claiming that women who didn't do it the 'right way' were dense and utterly stupid. And you wish for the millionth time that she had agreed to a magical birth._

"_Harry.. James.. Potter!" she pants. "You arsehole! You don't even know what I'm going through right here… pushing out your child!" she screams at you. Your ears hurt at her shrill tone, but you remind yourself that she's having a hard time pushing out your child, and you thank whoever that you aren't a female._

"_Hermione, love, breathe!" you instruct, and she does breathe, according to what she has learnt in pre-natal classes. This contraction is particularly fierce, and after waiting for nearly thirteen hours, you are relieved when the gynaecologist and obstetrician give her the go-ahead to push, since she is fully dilated already._

"_Push!" her gynae, Doctor Montgomery coaches, and she does, with an ear-splitting scream that makes you wish you weren't here to hear it. Her blunt fingernails dig into your skin, and you're glad that you've cleared all your cases for this month and the next, so you'll have time to stay with Hermione._

_She is crying now, and you bend and kiss her tears. _

"_It hurts…" she whimpers as she lets out a shuddering sob. "Don't want to give birth anymore…" Earlier, she had requested for an epidural, but the effects have worn off, and she feels the full-blown pain now. You try to calm her by rubbing circles over her abdomen, and you can feel her abdominal muscles clench. Your heart constricts when you hear her sob, and you clasp her hand harder._

"_Push!" She does so obediently, breathing raggedly. You use your free hand to wipe away her sweat, and she grimaces at the feel of your cool hand on her hot forehead. _

"_It's YOUR ENTIRE FAULT!" she screams as she pushes once more, this time, her fingernails drawing blood._

"_I see her head!" the midwife calls out, and you smile, as does she. _

"_Mine," she tells you. "She better be mine after all I've done for her." You smile, and you agree. It's wise not to agitate her now._

"_Yours," and her face lights up for a brief moment, before the next contraction hits again, and another soul-piercing scream emits from her. _

"_One more!" She looks so fragile and vulnerable on the gurney, and you press a kiss to her temple. _

"_One more. And then, we'll see our little girl, alright?" She nods fervently at your words, and gritting her teeth together, in the perfect picture of determination, she gives one last push, and you hear the strong, healthy wailing of your princess as she is delivered into the world. Your wife collapses onto the bed, spent as she whispers, "We did it," to you, and you nod, before engaging her lips with yours._

_You are sure you're looking like an idiot right now, with a smile that extends from ear to ear, and when the midwife asks you to cut he umbilical cord, you do so with the pride of a father. You give your child her first bath, wiping off the blood from her. She looks so perfect, and when you hold her, she stops crying, as if she knows who you are. She is so small, so fragile that you take extra care to bathe her. You wrap her snugly in a comfy towel, before bringing her to Hermione. _

_Hermione looks awful, with dried tear tracks running down her cheeks and a splotchy nose, but to you, she looks heavenly. She is, after all, the mother of your child. She reaches out to get the child from you, and immediately the child begins fussing. Hermione brings your princess to her mammary glands, where she begins sucking, her first meal. You are so proud of your wife, and even more so of your daughter that you ask the nurse to capture this moment on your camera. You can't help but think that right now, you're the luckiest man alive. _

*

You caress her hair, and make yourself comfortable on the beanbag next to Mia. She's growing up so fast; soon, she will be going to primary school. It is only a matter of time before she leaves you, and you just want to grab onto her and not let her go. It is not a pleasant thought, and you press a kiss to her forehead, sweeping her bangs to the side. You love this girl so much.

She occasionally mumbles in her sleep, and now, you hear her say, "Mummy…". And sub-consciously, your heart wrenches in your chest, and a single tear falls from your obsidian orbs.

"Mia," you whisper, although you know she cannot hear you, and it is unclear then, whether you mean your daughter… or your wife.

*

_It is only a few hours after you feel that you're the luckiest man alive, and that euphoria persists until now, but instinctively, you feel something is wrong. Hermione's face is so pale; and it is frightening you. _

"_Harry?" She murmurs, as she cradles the little girl to her chest. "I'm feeling a tad bit woozy."_

_You look around for someone, anyone to help, but they've all exited the room earlier to give you some privacy while your wife breastfeeds your little girl, and you wish they hadn't, because they hadn't come back since. _

"_Just lie down, for a bit, alright? I'll find the doctor." You hope that your anxiousness isn't shown in the tone of your voice because you see no need to worry her, and she leans back on her bed, letting your princess snuggle beside her._

_You have no idea what you did, but the doctors come rushing in, and one look at her tells you this is bad. _

"_She's hemorrhaging!" Doctor Montgomery announces, and your heart constricts painfully in your chest. She's losing blood rapidly, and you blame yourself for being so shallow, for being so focused on your princess that you don't see that your precious Hermione is bleeding._

"_Please.." your voice is hoarse and full of worry. "Save her." The emerald gaze of Doctor Montgomery lands on you, and you see nothing but empathy and determination. _

"_I'll try my best," she tells you, before she kicks into surgical mode. A nurse hands your baby to you, and you look down at her, to see her reaction. She's sated, and contented, but as if she knows what is happening, her tiny hand reaches to you, and she curls it around the finger you've offered her. You know you have to be strong… for her, for your wife, and so you hold your little girl to your heart, and kiss the forehead of your wife._

"_Bleeding, huh?" she asks, and you see tears in her eyes._

"_You'll be fine," you tell her gruffly, and she smiles weakly at you._

"_Of course I'll be fine." She says it in such a matter-of-fact way, so like her, that it brings a hesitant smile to your face. She had to be fine. And that is what you see before the nurses push you out of the room, her obsidian gaze burning into yours. _

*

You can't deny you miss her so much, and living each day for your little girl to see her again… it is killing you little by little. You miss her so much.

*

_She isn't fine, because the moment the doctor comes out, you see tears in her eyes, and nothing else is said._

"_She wants to see you," Doctor Montgomery whispers, and you nod slightly. You figure it is too late to bring her to St Mungo's and regret fills your entire being._

_You feel your throat closing up as you enter the operation theater; smell the metallic scent of blood everywhere. You walk towards where Hermione lies, and she is there, so frail and vulnerable._

"_Harry…" she murmurs when she sees you, and you see her hand reaching out to yours. You clasp it, it is cool, and you feel the life ebbing out of her, slowly but surely…_

"_I'm not going to make it, am I?" she asks, tears in her eyes, and you cannot lie to her, and you nod fractionally. She shudders and lets out a sob, and you bend to kiss the tears away._

"_I'm leaving," she continues, and you nod, burying your face in the crook of her neck. "Don't," you say, but it comes out muffled. _

"_I love you, you know, Harry," she tells you, pretending not to hear your earlier words._

"_I know," you choke out._

"_Loved you for a long time. Since the day you rescued me from the trolls." You smile at her words._

"_I loved you since you went for prom with that git Krum looking like a million bucks," you counter. She snorts. _

"_Figures you would only notice me when I'm with someone else." She smiles, but you can see this is tearing her up too._

"_Take care of Mia for me," she says, and you can't say anything but nod. The unfairness of the entire situation dawns upon you, and you resist the urge to cry in front of her._

"_I'm sorry, you know. Sorry for leaving you so early. To take care of Mia. To cope alone. I'm sorry Mia can't have a mother. Sorry that you won't have a wife," she whispers, tears falling steadily. _

"_I'm sorry I didn't bring you to St Mungo's."_

"_Oh." She blinks, "It's alright, really. There isn't a cure for it when it has reached this stage, anyway. Don't blame yourself over it. I'm just sorry you won't have a wife."_

"_Silly girl. You'll always be my wife."_

"_Promise me," she gasps, and the beeping increases._

"_Anything," your tears fall, mingling with hers._

"_Move on. Take care of Mia for me," she gasps. You don't want to move on, but you'll take care of Mia, irregardless._

"_I love you," you muster._

"_And I, you." You plant a kiss on her blue lips, and she tries to respond with equal fervour, but her energy is just draining away._

"_Promise me!" she urges you desperately, as you stroke her brown locks, damp with perspiration. Her grey orbs plead for you to understand, to grant her last wish._

"_I promise," you say, turning away for a brief moment until she recaptures your gaze._

"_G…ood," she breathes out._

"_Love.. y..ou foreve.." she breathes, and then you hear no more. And you start weeping._

"_Time of death," you hear, "5.20 a.m. Cause of death: Hemorrhaging and carelessness of attending." You ball up your fists angrily at said attending, but you cannot bring yourself to confront them now, and so you stay beside her lifeless body. She looks like she's sleeping, so serene and tranquil, without the painful lines that were creasing her face earlier, and you press a kiss to her forehead._

_The nurse enters, and aware that it is a bad time, she passes the form to you. You stare at the words 'name of child' for a while, before writing 'Hermione Mia Angelica Potter.' Hermione, my angel._

*

"Love you forever, Mummy," your little girl mumbles in her sleep, and you catch the words clearly. You think of _your Hermione,_ the one you lost before and the one you have now. You never found someone else to take the place of your lost Mia, and you don't think you ever will. But you do tell stories of lost Mia to your daughter, hoping she knows how much you love her, and how much lost Mia loved your little girl.

You think of Hermione every day. She haunts your thoughts, your dreams, and your memories. So you press a kiss to your daughter, who looks so much like _her_, and pray she'll grow up to be like her as well.

"Mummy," you hear her sleeptalk, "Daddy loves you loads." You smile, despite the tears running down your face, and you think of the truth in the statement. And like a prayer answered, Mia murmurs in her sleep, "Daddy, Mummy wants me to tell you, she loves you loads too."

**The End**.

A/N: This was reedited, so technically, it is somewhat of a repost.


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